


How To Give and How To Take

by doctormccoy



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Barebacking, Commission fic, Determined Steve Rogers, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Facials, Frustrated Steve, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, References to bottom!Bucky, Riding, Rimming, Rough Sex, Self Esteem Issues, Sex Struggles, Steve's health makes sex difficult, Stubborn little shit Steve Rogers, bottom!Steve, come shots, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-26 21:38:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2667227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctormccoy/pseuds/doctormccoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's numerous health issues sometimes make sex difficult, complicated, and frustrating. Bucky tries to be understanding, but sometimes he worries that this isn't really something Steve wants. </p><p>Steve decides he's going to show Bucky just how very, very wrong he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How To Give and How To Take

**Author's Note:**

> A commission fic for the lovely [geriatricsupersoldiers](http://geriatricsupersoldiers.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Fic title from ["Raging Fire"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aXRODrspQpc) by Phillip Phillips. (Can you tell I enjoy this song and all its Steve/Bucky implications yet?)

Bucky never says or does anything that makes Steve feel inadequate.

No, Steve is plenty good enough at doing that all on his own. 

“Damn it all to hell, Buck!” he snarls, shoving the other man off him for the third night in a row. Bucky tries to hide the wounded expression he’s wearing behind his hand, scrubbing at his face as he sits back on his haunches. Bucky has been sucking him off for close to a half an hour, now, and Steve is still only just barely half hard against his own thigh, lightheaded and wheezing. 

It isn’t like Steve doesn’t enjoy going to bed with Bucky. The other man is very good with his hands and mouth, and it always feels amazing. He’s been in love with him since they were kids and there shouldn’t be anything holding him back from enjoying every second of finally getting to be with Bucky. 

It’s Steve’s body that betrays him in the end, like it always does.

The first time Bucky takes him to bed Steve has an asthma attack before he’s even inside him. After finally working up the courage to kiss his best friend, regardless of the fact, or perhaps especially because of the fact, that Bucky is filthy and sweaty from working down at the docks all morning to afford their rent, he can’t even have what he’s been craving for years. 

The second time Bucky takes him to bed Steve can’t even get it up and Bucky is too much of a gentleman to be the only one that gets off, so they spend the night curled up in bed while Bucky badgers Steve to read to him. 

Bucky’s been his guy for almost a year now and Steve can barely count on two hands the times they’ve been able to have sex without a single hiccup. More often than not Steve will lose his erection when Bucky is inside him and Steve knows it makes Bucky feel just as inadequate, like he’s unable to give Steve the pleasure he deserves. 

Bucky suggests they try switching things up and the first time Steve sinks into Bucky it works. He stays hard throughout and Bucky rides Steve’s cock until they’re both weak and shivering with pleasure. Steve comes inside him and Bucky’s release paints his stomach with white, their moans muffled between their mouths to keep from waking neighbors on the other side of paper thin walls. 

As Bucky curls around him they both sigh inwardly with relief that maybe they’ve just been going about this all wrong.

The next time they have sex Steve goes soft inside Bucky and gets so dizzy he needs to lie down for a while before he blacks out. 

“I’m sorry, Buck,” Steve murmurs, sitting up and running a hand through his hair as Bucky flashes him that same unsteady smile he always wears when this happens. Like he doesn’t know what to say to make Steve feel better. Like he doesn’t know what to say to make _himself_ feel better.

“It’s okay, Stevie. I know you’re just frustrated. There’s nothin’ you can do about it if your body ain’t up to cooperating today,” Bucky sighs, tentatively reaching out to rest his hand on top of Steve’s. 

It’s been over a month since they were last able to have sex without having to pause in the middle to work Steve’s cock back up into hardness, or stop entirely because nothing was working or Steve was teetering dangerously close to an asthma attack.

Steve shakes his head and pulls his hand away, unable to bring himself to look at the hurt that’s no doubt painted all over Bucky’s face. He knows it’s unfair to take his anger out on Bucky and he stands up, ignoring the immediate sense of vertigo that slams into him, and starts to gather up his clothing, jaw set and lips pursed. 

When he can’t take the uncomfortable silence any longer he finally whirls around to glare at Bucky, feeling like he’s been punched in the gut at the lost expression the other man is wearing. 

“What, Bucky? You look like you want to say something so just say it,” Steve snaps, yanking his pants up his too skinny legs and cinching the belt tight around his waist. No matter how much he eats he never gains any weight and he’s painfully aware of the startling contrast between his pale, bony self and the gorgeously tan, muscled man in the bed opposite him. Bucky can have anyone in Brooklyn and for some reason he continues to insist that Steve is all he wants and needs.

Bucky grunts and looks away from Steve, his mouth set in a grim line. Steve knows what he’s about to say before the words pass his lips. It’s an argument they’ve had before. 

“Steve, are you sure this is what you want?”

Bucky gestures between the two of them, his eyes over bright in a way that makes guilt sit heavy in Steve’s stomach. 

“You know you don’t.. You don’t _owe_ me anythin’ for taking care of us, right? That I would still do it even if you only wished to be friends?”

Steve folds his arms over his chest and turns away from Bucky, refusing to entertain this tired conversation any further. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Buck. I love you and I do want to be with you. It has nothing to do with me trying to pay you back, or whatever it is you’re tryin’ to get at.”

Sometimes Steve gets into fights with men who call him a fairy just because he’s small and Bucky cleans every wound while looking like they’ve also been inflicted upon him. They go on double dates with beautiful dames to keep up appearances of just being friends, but Steve always feels Bucky’s eyes on him, as if he’s hoping to see Steve enjoying himself with one of the girls. 

Bucky doesn’t want to be Steve’s downfall. 

Steve’s pretty sure that he’s the only one that gets to make that decision and falling for Bucky is the easiest choice he’s ever made. 

“It’s not anything you’re doing, it’s just… all me. So if you can’t accept that then maybe you’re the one that doesn’t really want this.”

He means for the words to be gruffer and angrier than they actually come out sounding. Bucky’s feet thud across the wooden floors of their apartment and Steve can’t help but lean back into him when his arms are circling around Steve’s waist from behind, face burying into his bony shoulder. 

“Never doubt that this is what I want. That _you’re_ what I want, not for a second, Stevie,” Bucky whispers fiercely, pressing a small kiss to the curve of his neck. Steve sighs and rests his hands over Bucky’s, which are clasped tight together against his belly, thumbs rotating in soothing circles against the skin. They stay like that for several long minutes, Bucky’s lips trailing gentle, worshipful kisses over Steve’s throat and jawline and Steve leaning heavily against his chest, until Steve finally breaks the silence. 

“I’m sorry for yelling at you. I know this is hard on you, too. I’m just frustrated. I wish… I wish I could be what you deserve, Buck. Someone who isn’t always sick and can’t even hold down a job,” Steve mumbles, wincing when the arms around his middle tighten inexplicably at his words. 

Bucky lets him go just enough so he can turn him around and back him against a wall, one arm locked around his waist while his free hand cups against Steve’s jaw, fingers tracing the high arch of his cheekbones.

“You’re more than I could ever hope to deserve, Steve. I don’t care about you being sick. I’ve known you since we were little and it never once bothered me. I love you. That stubborn little punk from Brooklyn whose too dumb to run away from a fight and draws better than any famous artist I’ve never heard of. I don’t care if you can only get it up once a year. Sex isn’t the reason I love you and want you, Stevie.”

He exhales the words against his skin like a promise and Steve closes his eyes, sliding his fingers up into Bucky’s hair and letting himself soak in the warmth of the other man wrapped around him. The itch to go pick a fight with someone melts away with each brush of Bucky’s lips over his neck and he leans into the touch, sighing. 

“Sometimes I wish you’d just let me be stupidly angry and punch a wall or somethin’. It’s incredibly frustrating,” he grumbles finally, drawing a deep, rich laugh from the taller man wrapped around him. 

“Now what kind of friend would I be if I let you go and break our nice wall in a fit of grumpy sulking?” Bucky teases, wincing when Steve socks a solid punch against his shoulder and pulling back to rub at it, an expression of mock offense on his face.

“The kind that doesn’t get punched instead of the wall,” Steve snickers, bending down to retrieve his fallen shirt and buttoning it up, tucking it into his pants and shrugging his suspenders back over his shoulders. Bucky looks thoroughly unimpressed, only pausing the conversation long enough to yank his own pants back on before he suddenly tackles Steve, hoisting him over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

“Then I suppose it is my duty to hearth and home to make sure you’re far too tired to throw a punch at all,” Bucky laughs, ignoring Steve’s shouts of protest and the thud of his hands against Bucky’s lower back. He dumps him onto the bed and grins as he looms over him, leaning down to snag a kiss. 

Steve blinks to try and reorient himself, snorting with amusement at the insistent lick of Bucky’s tongue across the seam of his lips.

“Buck, you’re gonna be late for work if you dawdle around here much longer,” he laughs, trying to push him off even as Bucky whines and resists the press of his palms, taking advantage of Steve’s speaking to sneak his tongue inside his mouth. After that, well… In Steve’s defense it would take a far stronger man than him to resist a kiss that filthy and needy from someone as skilled as James Buchanan Barnes.

He eagerly responds with coquettish licks of his own tongue against Bucky’s, one hand sliding up into his hair while the other ghosts slyly down between their bodies. His own cock may not be up for playtime right now, but, Bucky’s is already responding to the friction of Steve’s leg between his thighs. 

“Wanna get you off before you go so you can spend the rest of the day remembering how good I made you feel,” Steve growls against Bucky’s mouth, feeling the other man’s uncertain hesitation before he sees it. Bucky is very rarely willing to have sex if he feels Steve isn’t also getting enjoyment from it, and Steve decides to squash that ridiculous train of thought once and for all.

“Just because I don’t always get off doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy having sex with you, Buck. My cock doesn’t have to be hard for me to like seeing you get off on my touch. You’re the prettiest sight in the world when you’re coming undone and I _like_ making you feel good.”

Steve stares hard at Bucky to make his point, smirking when he sees any willingness to argue fly out the door when he slides his hand into Bucky’s trousers and squeezes his cock.

“Besides. I like gettin’ to watch you leave for work knowing that all you’ll be able to think about the entire day is how damn good I am with my hands, and how you can’t wait to get home and return the favor. It isn’t exactly a hardship for me to make you feel good, Buck.”

Bucky whines pitifully into the crook of Steve’s neck as his pants are rucked down around his thighs, clearly struggling to decide whether he wants to thrust down into the hand around his cock or up against the fingers now kneading his ass. 

“You and those wicked little hands of yours will be the death of me,” Bucky croaks, muffling his moan against Steve’s skin when he squeezes and twists around the tip of his cock, just the way he knows Bucky likes best. Steve may not have a clue about what makes his own body tick but he has Bucky’s memorized inside and out and he never wastes an opportunity to prove it.

“Yeah, Buck? Why don’t you fuck my palm and show me just how good it feels,” Steve teases, lifting his hand long enough to lick a stripe across it, grinning when Bucky’s pupils blow wide and his breathing stutters in his throat.

Bucky makes a shattered noise as he presses their foreheads together and closes his eyes, waiting for Steve to curl his hand around his cock once more before he’s rocking down into it, shivering at the teasing press of a fingertip against his asshole. 

“Fuck, Stevie, the _mouth_ on you. Go around lookin’ all innocent when you’re the furthest thing from it,” he growls, attacking Steve’s lips with tongue and teeth as the smaller man smirks and dips his finger just the slightest bit inside the puckered hole, tightening his fingers around Bucky’s cock each time he rocks back just enough to leave the head in the warm pocket of space. 

Steve may not be able to have sex with Bucky the way he always wants to, but, getting to be the one that sees Bucky so open and unguarded is worth all that frustration. 

“Want you to come for me, Buck. Want you to come _on_ me and cover me in your smell so everyone knows exactly who I belong to,” Steve whispers, laughing when Bucky goes completely still and draws back just enough to stare down at him, slack jawed and all but worshipping at the altar of Steven Grant Rogers.

Steve laughs as he immediately falls on the clothing that Steve had tugged on earlier, yanking off suspenders and pulling buttons through their holes, all the while muttering under his breath about tricky little succubi named Steve Rogers and their filthy mouths being his undoing. 

He gives Bucky a lazy smirk and folds his arms over his head as Bucky straddles his waist and begins to rapidly strip his cock with his own hand, shuddering as he gets closer and closer to orgasm. Steve’s cock is pressing against the zipper of his own pants despite its earlier disinterest but he leaves it alone for now, far more focused on drinking in the sight of Bucky’s face twisting with pleasure. He does his best to memorize the way his eyebrows crease together with concentration, and the dark, hooded stare he’s giving Steve, pupils blown so wide you can only just barely see the rim of blue-grey pupil around them. There aren’t many colors that Steve can see right, but, Bucky’s eyes are one of them. Even in his pencil sketches of the other man he always makes sure to fill in the brilliant, vivid blue. 

“Come on, Barnes, I ain’t getting any younger,” Steve teases, watching the way Bucky’s face transforms into laughter, free hand shooting out to catch himself on the bed before he buckles forward into the man splayed out beneath him.

“Shut your punk mouth, Rogers, I’m trying to concentrate over here,” Bucky huffs, sliding his hand down his length to draw back the hood of foreskin, thumbing at the sensitive slit. Steve grins and shimmies just the slightest bit further down the bed, hands on Bucky’s hips to try and pull him closer. 

“Then why don’t you come up here and shut it for me?” Steve hums thoughtfully and Bucky seems to struggle to understand the meaning behind those words so he opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out in silent explanation and invitation, his own stare as heated as the one he’s getting from Bucky. 

It takes the dark haired man a few long seconds to figure out what Steve is asking for and the way his face opens up into an expression of pure wonder and adoration makes Steve squirm slightly. He’s not used to being looked at with reverence quite like that. 

“You’re a goddamn treasure, Stevie, I swear it to the Heavens. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve someone so perfect and beautiful but I’m thankful for it every single damn day,” Bucky breathes, shuffling forward until he’s kneeling on either side of Steve’s thin shoulders, one hand still jerking himself off while the other cradles Steve’s cheek, thumb swiping over kiss swollen lips. 

“Prettiest fuckin’ thing I ever laid my eyes on.”

Steve doesn’t know how to respond to the praise being lumped on him, so he says nothing, opening his mouth wider and staring headily up the other man instead. It gets the point across, though, and Bucky shudders as he stops the rapid slide of his hand and uses it to aim himself instead, trying not to pass out at the sight of his own come streaking the milky skin of Steve’s cheeks and chin. 

Several stripes of white land on Steve’s mouth and tongue and Bucky groans at the way he keeps his lips parted to catch more until Bucky’s finally done, his thighs quivering and cock going limp in his hand. 

Steve can feel the sticky wetness on his skin and taste the bitter salt of Bucky’s come but he doesn’t withdraw his tongue to swallow just yet, liking the needy, heated way Bucky’s eyes roam across his face. Only when Bucky nods does he finally close his mouth and swallow, smirking at the weight of Bucky pressing his come streaked fingers to Steve’s lips.

He cleans them with rough swipes of his tongue as Bucky continues to wipe the come from his face and feed it to him, enjoying how this alone already has Bucky’s cock stirring hopefully against his hipbone. 

He’s the one that makes Bucky like this. The only one that can put that look of want on his face. 

Even if Steve can’t get it up half the time it doesn’t matter because Bucky still looks at him like he’s never wanted anything so much in his entire life than Steve. 

Steve sighs when Bucky curls down over him to lick his way into Steve’s mouth, more than happy to share the taste of Bucky that lingers on his tongue. There are hands ghosting down his sides and a particularly hopeful one palms at the front of his pants, clearly pleased to feel the weight of Steve’s erection straining at the fabric.

“Buck you’re gonna be late for work,” Steve groans, doing a pitiful job of resisting as Bucky crawls his way down Steve’s body to pull his pants down and off, spreading Steve’s thighs with insistent hands. 

“Only a little bit. I’ll tell them I had a pressing matter to attend to,” Bucky snickers, earning a playful cuff upside the head from Steve’s foot. 

Steve follows the hands guiding his hips to roll over and groans when there are thumbs prying his cheeks apart, baring his hole to Bucky’s hungry gaze. If there’s one thing that Steve really likes it’s when Bucky eats him out because the other man can do positively sinful things with his tongue and even Steve’s uncooperative body can’t help but respond to that kind of stimulation. 

“ _Yes,_ okay, tell them whatever you want just put your mouth on my ass,” Steve whimpers, all pretense of sarcasm and snark disappearing the instant he feels the warm brush of Bucky’s breath against his entrance.

Bucky leans in a little more to rub the scruff of last night’s stubble against the sensitive patch of flesh between his hole and balls, drawing a ragged, needy noise from Steve’s chest. 

“You sure? You seemed awfully concerned a second ago,” Bucky teases and if Steve wasn’t currently centimeters from getting exactly what he wants he’d turn around and give him another well-deserved punch on the shoulder for being a jerk and a tease.

“So help me, Barnes, if you don’t put your tongue in my ass in the next five seconds,” Steve snarls, clawing at the blankets to try and shove himself backwards into Bucky’s face. Bucky’s more than strong enough to hold him in place right where he wants Steve, chest pressed into the bed and on his knees, ass in the air like an offering, and he snickers against the delicate skin of his perineum, tongue sliding out to lick a stripe up his cleft.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a bossy little shit when you want something?” Bucky sighs, breath rushing out against Steve’s ass and drawing a wrecked little whine from the man beneath him. 

Steve’s hole flutters invitingly at the brush of moist air and he grunts, sparse muscles rippling faintly as they try to resist the firm hold Bucky has on him. 

“Bucky, _please_ ,” he whines and he can feel the smug curve of Bucky’s lips against his ass. 

“There you go. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Bucky laughs as Steve lands a solid kick back against his thigh, retaliating by curling an arm under the smaller man’s hips and lifting his lower half off the bed entirely so his cock is rubbing snugly against Bucky’s chest, his ass angled up towards his face. 

Steve has absolutely no control or movement in this position and he chokes off a ragged moan into the blankets, for once enjoying the feeling of being entirely at another person’s mercy. He trusts Bucky with this. It’s easy to give everything over to him.

Especially when finally, _finally_ , Bucky leans down to run the flat of his tongue across Steve’s twitching hole, sending a cascade of pleasure sparking down Steve’s spine.

A low, desperate whine tears itself from his throat as Bucky curls his lips around Steve’s hole and fucks his tongue rapidly against the pucker, soaking the skin in saliva. Steve knows what to anticipate next and it’s with a pleased little sigh that he welcomes Bucky’s spit slick thumb inside himself, easily taking it with how relaxed and limp he’s gone in the other man’s grasp. 

Bucky likes to joke that Steve was made to take cock. Steve privately thinks that he was made to take _Bucky’s_ cock. 

“Yes yes yes yes, Bucky, please,” he cries out into the bed, shuddering as Bucky uses his thumb to pry Steve open so he can slide his tongue deep inside of him, hardening the tip to rub against the inner walls. Even the barest sensation of teeth scraping against the rim makes Steve whimper, his cock still blessedly hard and leaking between his thighs. 

He knows what he wants, now, and how he wants to come, and it’s with great difficulty that he starts to wriggle in Bucky’s arms, making it clear he wants to get down from this position.

Steve can almost hear the confusion on his best friend’s face when Bucky pulls his thumb out from inside him and lets him sink back down onto the bed, clearly worried that he’s hurt Steve in some way. 

He’s smirking when that turns to surprise and gut punching need as Steve turns on him and shoves him down onto the bed so he can straddle Bucky’s hips, cock jutting out from between pale thighs. 

It’s nothing to look at compared to Bucky’s, which is long and pleasantly thick in all the right ways. Steve’s is as small as the rest of him and it disappears when Bucky reaches out to curl his hand around it, rolling his wrist to slide from root to tip.

“You got a plan brewin’ in your brain that you’d like to share with the class, Stevie?” Bucky asks lowly, clearly enjoying the spasms of pleasure he draws from Steve with each upward glide of his palm.

Steve ignores him in favor of reaching back to grope blindly through the bedside drawer until he finds the Vaseline, pulling the lid off and leaving the tin on Bucky’s chest so he can scoop his fingers through it, curling his arm behind himself to press at his spit slick hole.

“Oh, I don’t know. I think you’re a smart enough fella to figure it out for yourself,” Steve laughs, a little breathless as he sinks his middle finger inside himself down to the knuckle.

Bucky’s cock gives a very interested twitch against his thigh and the man himself has to close his eyes and count to ten to avoid coming on the spot, hand still occupied with making sure Steve’s cock stays erect.

“You sure, Steve? Last time we tried this you nearly stopped breathin’ on me,” Bucky asks in a low whisper, trying to maintain some level of control. It’s a bit difficult when there was a very clearly aroused and wanting Steve Rogers writhing against him while he fingers himself open for Bucky’s cock. 

Steve’s eyebrows knit with stubborn frustration and he withdraws his fingers from his hole, grabbing Bucky’s face between his hands and forcing him to meet his gaze.

“Now you listen here, James Buchanan Barnes. I will not have you treating me like some delicate, fragile flower just because I’m little and my body doesn’t always do what I tell it to. If it happens then it’s gonna happen whether I’m reading the newspaper or ridin’ your dick, and if it’s inevitable anyways then I’d much rather have it happen in your bed than any other way. I love you and I want to have sex with you before you go to work, like a normal couple, and if my body doesn’t like it then we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it but not a moment before. You hear me?” he growls, pleased when Bucky has the decency to look ashamed and lowers his gaze a little, hands coming up to cup against the ones holding his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Stevie. Didn’t mean to make you feel like I was treatin’ you different or anything. It’s just.. Well, sometimes it’s scary when you’re lying there and strugglin’ for air and I feel like there’s nothing I can do except sit back and hope you’ll catch your breath, and that this isn’t the time that it’s too much for you. And when it happens while we’re in bed I feel like it’s my fault, sometimes. That I wasn’t paying close enough attention, or that I pushed you too far. I’m scared of losin’ you, Stevie, more than anything,” Bucky admits, and now Steve’s the one that feels embarrassed, sighing as he leans in to press their foreheads together, nudging his nose against the other man’s. Bucky’s never given him any cause to believe that he thinks Steve is any less of a man just because he’s not as strong or big as most of them.

“I’m sorry, too, Buck. Shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. I know you’d never treat me different just because I’m smaller than everyone else. I’m just mad that it keeps gettin’ in the way of being together, and there’s not much either of us can do about it. But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop trying, and neither should you,” Steve murmurs softly, smiling a little when Bucky tilts his head up to nuzzle their mouths together in a gentle kiss. 

“Promise me you’ll stop if things start feelin’ funny, or if you’re having trouble breathing?” Bucky asks, sliding his palms down Steve’s sides to rest on the bony angles of his hips. Steve nods and steals one last kiss before he sits up again, happy to see that, by some miracle, his cock is still mostly hard between his thighs.

“I promise, Buck. Now can you please put your dick in me before I start to turn old and grey?”

That startles a laugh out of Bucky and the worried expression slides into one of raw need, the hands on his hips guiding him back to poise him over Bucky’s cock.

“Well if you’re gonna twist my arm and all I suppose I can do that.”

Steve reaches back with a palmful of grease to slick up the thick length of Bucky’s cock before holding Bucky steady so he can sink down onto him, shuddering as it fills him up inch by inch. He hadn’t done the best job at stretching himself out but the Vaseline works like a charm as it eases the press of Bucky’s cock burying inside of him.

He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until Bucky’s squeezing his hips in warning, making Steve focus on letting it out of his lungs in a rush. And then Bucky is finally balls deep in Steve and Steve remembers why it is he likes doing this so much, even if he isn’t hard while it’s happening.

It feels like a missing piece has been slotted into place, leaving him filled up in more ways than just the obvious. 

A breathless smile spreads across his lips and he laughs, picking the tin of slick off Bucky’s chest and putting it beside them on the bed, leaning down so he can press a kiss to the hard muscle of Bucky’s shoulder.

“Come on then, pretty boy. Show me that you’re not just all talk and fuck me,” Steve orders in a low moan, watching the way Bucky’s face twists with want at those words. Somehow Steve has managed to snag himself the most beautiful boy in all of Brooklyn and he’s still not quite sure how but he counts his lucky stars every single day that Bucky wants him this much. 

He feels Bucky shifting to get his feet beneath himself and Steve leaves his hands on Bucky’s chest to keep himself upright, keeping his eyes fixed on the other man’s. Neither of them seem to be able to tear their eyes from the other when Bucky gives the first, experimental thrust up with his hips, dragging a wrecked little moan of pleasure from Steve’s lips. Bucky’s face fills with delight and he rolls himself upwards against Steve’s ass, setting a rapid, shallow pace, meeting each of Steve’s downward thrusts with a loud slap of wet skin. 

Steve likes fucking Bucky like this because it gets his cock nice and deep inside of him, his balls pressing snugly against his ass every time he bottoms out. What he doesn’t like is how difficult it makes it to kiss him and Bucky seems to agree as he pushes himself to sit upright under Steve, winding his legs until he’s got his knees beneath him, Steve still straddling his cock. 

Now Steve’s the one that has to do much of the movement in this position, and he all but bounces himself on Bucky’s cock while he tackles his lips with tongue and teeth, licking his way into Bucky’s mouth and moaning at the familiar taste of him. He can hold Bucky close this way and he buries one hand into the now thoroughly debauched mess of his hair while his other arm snakes around broad shoulders, using the added leverage to fuck himself even harder down on Bucky’s cock.

Steve can feel his body clenching around it and his own cock has remained rock hard between his own thighs, smearing precome across Bucky’s belly, now, as they grind together. The rickety bed beneath them creaks each time Steve bounces on Bucky’s cock and he can only hope that their neighbors are all out and about today because there’s no way anyone can mistake the sounds coming from their apartment for anything but what they are. 

“Bucky, m’gonna come,” Steve chokes, muffling a cry as Bucky slams him back onto the bed and shoves Steve’s knees up around his ears, digging his own into the bed so he can jackrabbit his hips hard and fast against Steve’s ass. The change in angle means he’s nailing Steve’s prostate with every sharp thrust, now, and Steve has to sink his teeth into Bucky’s shoulder to silence the howl of pleasure that wants to tear its way from his throat. His nails rake raw, red furrows down the tan muscle of Bucky’s back and his mouth leaves deep, dark bruises across his shoulder, unable to control the cries that Bucky rips from him with each deep thrust. 

“Then come for me, Stevie,” Bucky rumbles against his ear and Steve is done for, silently screaming Bucky’s name in his head as he comes with blinding force between their bellies. A majority of it ends up smearing across Bucky’s abs and Steve gets one brief moment to admire the stunning picture that makes before Bucky is going still against him, spilling his second orgasm of the morning inside of Steve. 

They’re still for a few seconds as they both come down from their shared orgasmic high before a low laugh escapes Bucky and he carefully lowers Steve’s legs back onto the bed, sprawling forward so that he can lay himself on top of the smaller man, his head resting against his chest. Steve knows he’s listening for any sign of labored breathing and relaxes, knowing that he feels perfectly fine for the moment and there’s nothing for either of them to be concerned about. In fact, he feels better than he has in a long time despite the sticky rush of come between his thighs when Bucky pulls his cock out from inside of him, making him whimper at the loss. 

“M’pretty sure you’re definitely gonna be late for work,” he huffs, dragging a bark of laughter from Bucky that vibrates against Steve’s chest until Steve pulls him up for a kiss, licking away a bead of sweat that trickles down Bucky’s cheek.

“Guess it’s a good thing I don’t really have work today and I just wanted to mess with you,” Bucky snickers, hands shooting out to grab and pin Steve’s before they can seek retribution. Steve struggles for a brief minute before he gives up with a displeased grunt, settling instead on giving Bucky his best Unamused Look, eyebrows arched and lips pursed in silent annoyance.

Bucky seems entirely immune, however, and leans down to kiss the frown off his mouth, nuzzling his nose playfully along the high arch of his cheekbone.

“Are you gonna spend the rest of the day poutin’ or are you gonna take advantage of the fact you get this handsome fella in your bed all afternoon?” Bucky asks with a thoughtful hum, shooting a playful wink at Steve before he releases his wrists, sitting up just enough so that he can shuck his pants, which have been clinging desperately to his ankles this entire time, onto the floor with the rest of their clothing. 

Steve does his best to appear unmoved by this argument as he rolls his eyes and slides off the bed, his hips swaying perhaps a touch more than is really necessary on his way to his desk. He returns with his pencils and his sketchpad, studying Bucky for a long moment before shoving him back down onto the bed with his foot planted on his chest, crawling back onto it to straddle his thighs.

“I’m gonna take my time drawin’ the prettiest thing I ever saw, and then, maybe, if he sits still long enough for me to commit it to paper, I’ll let my best guy take me out to that new color picture at the cinema by way of apology,” Steve says loftily, but there’s no real venom in his words as he picks out a pencil from the case and starts to sketch the outline of Bucky sprawling on the bed in front of him. 

Bucky gives him a wide, pleased smile as he rests his arms up above his head, making the muscles in his shoulders and chest flex ever so nicely for Steve’s appreciation. Steve’s come is still smeared across his belly and there are dark bruises from his teeth scattered across his shoulder, and Steve allows his gaze to linger there, enjoying the evidence of his avid participation in their fucking. 

“Yeah, Stevie? I’m your best guy?” Bucky asks in a low murmur and Steve’s eyebrows arch upwards again even as he focuses his attention back on his drawing, tracing the beginnings of Bucky’s messy, tangled hair.

“You’ve always been my best guy, Buck. Now stop moving or I’ll make you take me for ice cream, too,” Steve grunts, decidedly ignoring the faint glow of heat rising in his cheeks. Even though Steve has been with Bucky for over a year, now, it still gives him a secret thrill of delight to be able to call him that. They might not be able to share it with the world, but, Steve’s okay with it because Bucky is still his best guy, even if only in the privacy of their own home. 

Steve wants to protest when Bucky sits up, the complaint about ruining the picture on the tip of his tongue before it’s swallowed by Bucky’s mouth against his own, gentle fingers carding through his hair in a way that makes his hands quiver.

Bucky’s smiling when he draws back just enough to nudge their foreheads together, his eyes hooded and expression warm with fondness. 

“I’ll take you out for as many films and ice creams as you can stand, Stevie. I’d give you the moon if that’s what you wanted, all you gotta do is ask for it and it’s yours,” Bucky whispers, sending a hot thrill of joy shooting down Steve’s spine to bloom in the pit of his belly. Even after a year he’s still not used to the way Bucky looks at him like he’s the only thing in the whole world that matters. 

“Yeah? And why’s that, Buck?” Steve asks in a low voice, already knowing what the answer is as a smile spreads, slow and easy, across his own lips. 

Bucky cocks his head and arches an eyebrow like he’s surprised Steve even has to ask but there’s a matching grin on his own mouth that lets Steve know he’s just as aware as Steve that they both know the answer to that question.

“Because you’re my best guy and who else is gonna take care of you the way you deserve if it isn’t me?” he chuckles and Steve falls in love with him all over again.

Steve hums and nods, dropping the pencil and sketchpad in favor of running his palms up the muscled expanse of Bucky’s back, feeling the scratches he’d left there earlier. 

“Well, then, when you put it that way, I suppose I might just have to let you take me out for a burger, too,” he sighs, as if he’s doing Bucky a favor. 

Bucky grins anyways and presses Steve back down into the bed once more, laying a single, tender kiss to the arch of his throat.

“That’s terribly generous of you,” he hums against his jaw and Steve laughs, tugging playfully at Bucky’s hair even as his tongue does wicked things to Steve’s earlobe.

Bucky never does or says anything to make Steve feel inadequate.

And even though Steve is sometimes good enough at doing that all on his own, today he feels like he can fly, and that makes it all worth it in the end.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, and incoherent text posts about Sebastian Stan's beautiful face, you can find me on tumblr [here!](http://buckybarnnes.tumblr.com)


End file.
